An AntiTwilight Twilight
by TygerZ
Summary: Do you hate Twilight? Love it, but think that there are several or a million plot-holes and character problems? Then this fanfic is for you. Come and see an attempt at redeeming Twilight and find out if somewhere, deep down inside that novel, there is a good story to tell. Mature rating is for language only. WIP
1. Preface

**Author's note: **

**I have a couple things to mention before starting this. **

**1) This idea came to me quite randomly. I saw something about Twilight online and, as usual, I mentally rolled my eyes. You see, there are several things that I really despise about Twilight, including the stunning lack of character depth and the weakness of Bella as a female main character. But then I thought that maybe, somewhere deep within Twilight was actually a good story. And suddenly, it was my goal to find it. So, this fic is kind of a rewrite, with some plot things the same and some different, the way I believe that the story should have been told. Hopefully, I will find while writing this that there is some hope in this Twilight craze after all. **

**2) I do not (thankfully) own Twilight and this rewrite fanfic is purely for my own entertainment and curiosity. Twilight and everything in it belongs to Stephanie Meyer. **

**I hope you enjoy. **

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**Preface **

I didn't want to die.

I wasn't ashamed in admitting this. I didn't think that anyone in my situation (about to face a gruesome death through no fault of their own), would think any differently. In fact, I _couldn't_ feel ashamed; I couldn't feel anything other than my desire to take one more breath and to feel my heart's beat in my chest one more time. I knew there should be some sense of anger, but I couldn't bring myself to feel it, just as I couldn't bring myself to recall any sense of happiness that I had felt in the months prior. I was going to die.

There was nothing else to feel, other than a sense of complete, fucking terror.

My soon-to-be murderer was watching me lazily, inching closer to me with each breath that I took. His reflection in the mirrors around me appeared to be closing in. Hopelessly, the moment was near.

I closed my eyes, letting the mirrored room faded to black as I gripped the cold wood floor with sweaty palms. My heart gave a few hurried pounds in my chest and then pain overtook my thoughts.


	2. Chapter 1: Forks

Chapter 1

**A/N: **

** I may or may not need a beta for this, so let me know if you are interested. Try not to be too harsh on me until then, although all reviews and tips and whatnot are appreciated! And feel free to point out any mistakes. **

** As always, Stephanie Meyer owns Twilight and I will never claim to (especially as I have to reread it while writing this and be reminded of the quality of it). But I hope everyone enjoys and reviews are much appreciated! They making writing much better. **

When fate decides to make it's appearance, it hits you hard.

Usually, it's all for the better, but when you're standing in an airport alone with a ridiculously heavy carryon in your hand, the terminal above your head that reads "Final Destination: Port Angeles" it doesn't feel like anything good is coming at all.

But I'd rather tell myself that it really was for the better, which is why I was smiling stupidly underneath the terminal sign, as the ten minutes until boarding ticked down. I didn't see the weird looks shot at me by passersby. I didn't really see anything but that sign and the spot where my mom had abandoned me minutes before.

Well, she didn't really abandon me. But as much as I hated feeling like a whiny teenager, that was exactly what I felt like in that moment: a teenager who was complaining about her life and wishing my parents weren't so damn annoying. I knew my impending flight that would take me to live in a little town called Forks with my father (an insanely dim place, where the rain liked to fall almost permanently) was for the best, but at the moment, that thought was far in the back of my mind.

My mom had just gotten married to a man named Phil. I liked Phil; he was nice and always had cheesy jokes to make me giggle when I was upset. It also didn't hurt that Phil had enough money to take care of my mom. But Phil played baseball in a small traveling league and my mom had always been one for "the adventure of never ending travel." as she put it, removing any hesitation that she had for joining him. And despite how optimistic my mom was and how close we were to each other, even she knew that bringing along your daughter who is supposed to be attending high school regularly wasn't going to work. Luckily for me (and maybe more so her and Phil), my dad was more than willing to take me.

Standing in that airport made me feel more bitter than I usually was. I knew that my mom had always wanted to travel, that Phil was great for her, and I really did miss seeing my dad. I knew a change from the never ending sun of Phoenix wouldn't be too awful, seeing as I only ever burnt anyway. I knew this wasn't easy for anyone, but those thoughts didn't stop my bitterness. I told myself I had until I moved in with my dad officially to sulk, but then, provided nothing awful happened, I would be happy.

And I would.

I had been realizing that slowly, ever since my mom first asked me how I felt about her traveling with Phil. I knew right away that she wasn't really asking, even though she thought she was. Her eyes shone and sparkled when she talked about it and I didn't want to be the bitch daughter that told her no, all because I didn't want to live with my other parent. I agreed pretty quickly and even felt good about the thought of being with my dad again (of course, I was ignoring my dislike of Forks as I thought this). It wasn't until I began thinking about leaving behind sixteen years of my life and the people I had met between then that the actuality of it began to sink in. And I felt absolutely awful when I told my best friend Miley, who cried pretty hard. Not that she was crying alone.

But Miley and I would keep in touch, as would my mom and I and my other friends. Mom and Phil tried to make up for the move by buying me a new laptop, since the one we all shared was slowly dying (not to mention missing the 'a,' 't' and 'enter' keys) and wasn't fit for any sort of traveling. My mom got one too and I knew that there would be plenty of Video chatting and IMing to keep me from feeling forgotten.

And also, there was one part of this that I had been considering more and more. I loved my mom to death. I loved her craziness, which included her spontaneity and creativity. She was an artist, which was most of the reason we never had a lot of money when I was young, but I couldn't have asked anything else of her. I thought it was funny how she could talk over a crowd without even noticing how loud she was, laugh at anything, or sometimes curse like a sailor. We were really close, but we weren't very similar. I didn't have any of those traits. I was quiet, sometimes "painfully awkward" in my quietness, as my mom liked to put it. I had a much sharper tongue when it came to humor, and I liked to think out my options before I made a decision. These were all traits that came from my dad and I was almost glad for it, because I wasn't worried about us getting along; we always had. I hadn't seen him since I was ten, when plane tickets began to get too expensive for either of my parents and although I knew that there would be several awkward moments, such as the hour car ride from the airport to Forks, where neither of us would talk much, I had a feeling that everything would work out okay.

Which brought me back to my positive thoughts about fate.

When it was time I boarded the plane quickly, thanking God that I had talked my mom into leaving the airport before I boarded. The tearful goodbye we had was hard enough, but I had a strange feeling that I would turn into a five year old and start bawling if I knew my mom was just behind me, watching me get on the plane. She was disappointed, but I think Phil understood and talked her out of staying. We did, however, arrive three hours early, so that my mom could sit with me and make sure that I would be ok. I told her that I would be; I was excited to see dad, I did pack several raincoats, I didn't really mind flying, I had her and Phil's and Dad's and Miley's and Sam's and Steven's phone numbers, I hadn't forgotten anything and my laptop was safe in my carryon. I mocked her pretty heavily for all the questions and the double checking, but I didn't really mind. My positive thinking hadn't kept me from getting nervous.

My seat was a window seat. I waved out the window to Phoenix as we took off and smiled awkwardly at the serious looking business man sitting next to me. He didn't smile back.

I sighed and leaned my head back against the seat. I closed my eyes and wished myself good luck.

"Hey Squirt."

My dad had a soft voice that didn't match his build. He was a cop and very much looked the part: wide shoulders, tall and a hint of muscle in his frame. His dark hair was buzzed and he was clean shaven. There were hints of wrinkles in his face that I didn't remember.

"Dad," I said, rolling my eyes as I hugged him, only slightly stiffly. "Don't call me that."

He winked, but didn't reply.

"Should we find your bags?" He asked me, nodding his head in the direction of the luggage area.

It didn't take long; the largest three were mine. I wondered if the airport workers realized that I was moving, or if they laughed about how heavy some people traveled. I hoped it was the latter; it was much more amusing that way.

In the parking lot was an old rusting pick up truck. The truck looked as though it used to be vibrantly red but had faded throughout the years, but I didn't mind. The engine hummed smoothly as it turned on.

"Nice truck," I said, grinning. He looked over at me, a shadow of uncertainty crossing his face.

"I hope you like it." His hand was on the gear stick, but he didn't move it. "I got it for you."

I stared at him for a moment, disbelieving. He was just smiling slightly; nothing about his expression made it seem as though he was joking. If I hadn't been so shocked, I would have found it slightly funny. It was so like my dad, who preferred not to talk a whole lot, to just cut to the chase so quickly.

"You're kidding."

"I'm not kidding."

I stared a little bit longer, before the realization hit me.

"Dad!" I said, throwing my hands up and smacking one on the dashboard. I had a horrible habit of gesturing wildly when I was excited. I rubbed my fingers absentmindedly. "That is so cool."

"I'm glad you think so," he said, finally shifting into reverse and pulling out of the parking spot. I could see that his smile had grown.

"I really do. Thank you. You really didn't have too-"

He waved his hand to silence me, without glancing over.

"You need to be able to get around. And I got it from a friend, it was a pretty good deal. It shifts a little hard in the winter, but that's not too bad for a first car, I thought."

It really wasn't, I silently agreed. I guessed that I had just found my silver lining in Forks.

"It sounds perfect."

He was silent, but grinning.

After a little over an hour (we had stopped for some much needed food on the way), we pulled into the driveway. The two story brick house looked just as I remembered it and I was hit suddenly by the thought that I could have lived here all my life, had my mom not run from the "dull life of Forks" and left my dad when I was one. My dad had been devastated; I don't think he ever saw it coming. I wondered what it would be like if my mom had stayed and I had grown up in this house all my life. Surrounded by a thick forest, at that moment it didn't seem very suffocating at all.

"Welcome home, Bella." My dad's voice was quiet and I couldn't help but smile.

I carried my things up to the room I had stayed in during my visits. I noticed that it seemed to have a new coat of light yellow paint and the bed was a little bigger than I remembered, with crisp new white sheets. The room was sparse, with the only other furniture a desk, a bookshelf and a lamp. My favorite part of the room, however, was just as I remembered it. After I unpacked most of my things, plugged in my laptop to charge and quickly got ready for bed, I sat down on the window seat, looking out at the setting sun. The mountains glowed red on the horizon and the earth seemed to glow a pleasant yellow. I knew that I wouldn't catch a view like this anywhere in Phoenix, and I decided that it must be a sign.

I lost myself in my thoughts for awhile, before a gentle knock came at my door. I turned around to see my dad looking around my room with his eyebrows raised.

"You got a fair amount unpacked. I don't think that I've ever seen the room with this much stuff in it before."

I shrugged and nodded. It wasn't hard to decide where to put things and I hated unpacking, so I wanted to get it over with soon.

"It probably just looks full though, because the room is so small. I'm sorry Bella, I wish I had something else for you."

"It's okay, Dad, really." I said, hoping he would believe me. "I like this room, it has a great view."

I looked back over my shoulder and sighed, as if to prove my point.

"Yeah, it does," he said, also sighing. "Anyway, Bella, I came to tell you goodnight. I have to work an early shift tomorrow. But I'll be home around 3 and we can go over everything you need to know for school."

"Okay," I said. I smiled lightly and he left. I crossed the room, shut the door and fell onto the bed. Laying there, I wondered if I should go to bed early as well. I had been planning on IMing Miley before bed, but I didn't know if I had the energy. I hadn't realized how tired traveling had made me.

Closing my eyes, I decided as I drifted into sleep that today wasn't as bad as it could be. In fact, it was better than I had anticipated. The only thing I had to really worry about now was the jolt of fear in my stomach I got when my dad mentioned school. But it was only Saturday and sleep was calling my name.


End file.
